Whitebark Stream verpassen

mahler, of course, returned to this place. 
he stood looking at the water only a moment, before he began to resolutely search for any trace of iana's scent. to know that she alone had stood without children, and had wanted to be a mother; why did she not choose another?
but it was not another iana had wanted.
it was surely understandable, then, why she had left duskfire, but mahler was not assured she was forever gone. and so he looked, calling here and there, pausing once more alongside the last site of her most recent treatment she had given him. 
as if by irony, the cough rose in his throat, rattling and harsh.